


Someone to Bake With

by hmweasley



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Cursed Child - Thorne & Rowling
Genre: Baking, Canonical Character Death, Fluff and Angst, Friends to Lovers, Grief/Mourning, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-23
Updated: 2019-04-23
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:22:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572344
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hmweasley/pseuds/hmweasley
Summary: Scorpius had loved baking with his mother for as long as he could remember. Once she's gone, he's not sure if he can ever bake again. Albus is determined to make him see things differently.





	Someone to Bake With

**Author's Note:**

> Prompts:  
> Write about a scent that triggers a memory.  
> (word) blossoming

Stirring the thick batter took a lot of Scorpius’ strength, but he didn’t mind. Helping his mother bake sweets was his favourite thing to do around the house. He could have kept it up for hours, even if his arms ached. The knowledge that the end result would be something delicious kept him going, as did his mother’s humming. There were many songs that Scorpius didn’t know the lyrics to, if they had any, because he knew them only from Astoria’s humming in the kitchen. He liked it that way. To him, the songs were their baking songs, and he sometimes hummed along quietly to himself, careful not to disturb his mother too much.

A knock on the kitchen door made him Scorpius look up from his mixing bowl. Draco was hovering in the entrance to the kitchen with a sheepish smile on his face.

“Care if I help out?” he asked, glancing between his wife and son.

Scorpius couldn’t contain his giggle. His father had only lent a hand in the kitchen a few times, and each time had been unforgettable.

“Why do you want to help, Dad?” he asked. “You know what’ll happen.”

Memories of his dad covered in batter ran through his mind’s eye only to be quickly replaced with the memory of the cake Draco had once tried to ice. It had crumbled to pieces before Draco declared it a lost cause. Scorpius couldn’t contain his laughter as he remembered it. Astoria had to cover her own mouth with the back of her flour-dusted hand to hide her smile.

Draco tried to appear stern, but there was a light pink tint to his cheeks that hinted at his true feelings. He kept his eyes on a spot on the wall as he retorted, “Sometimes I like to spend time with my family, and the two of you are always in here. The least I could do is provide a hand.”

Scorpius bit his bottom lip to hold in his giggles. Astoria wiped her hands against her apron and motioned Draco inside, pointing him towards the cookie sheet she’d just pulled out from its spot in the cabinet.

“Could you grease this for me?” she asked. “And try to use less than you did last time.”

Scorpius’ giggles broke free as Astoria patted Draco on the shoulder before leaving him to his work. Draco tossed a halfhearted glare over his shoulder before setting to work.

Half an hour later, the cookies and cake were in their respective ovens, and the family of three sat around the kitchen table with cool glasses of butterbeer in front of them. Scorpius already knew that the cookies wouldn’t be quite as good as usual because his father had added a bit too much salt. Still, they would be edible, and Scorpius knew he’d enjoy them just as much after the show his father had put on while trying to do his best.

“When I’m older,” Scorpius said, staring at the oven as he thought, “I want to marry someone good at baking. Someone who can make amazing cakes and actually knows how to measure out ingredients.”

“Thanks, son,” Draco said, though there was a grin on his face. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“Me too,” Astoria said, reaching out to caress Scorpius’ cheek. “But you can’t anticipate what you’ll find important as an adult, Scorpius. Don’t be surprised when your feelings are blossoming for someone you wouldn’t have expected. I could have married a baker, but then the two of us wouldn’t have gotten to watch your dad mess up so much. And where would be the fun in that?”

Scorpius and Astoria laughed together, both pretending not to notice Draco pouting in his chair.

* * *

Tears poured down Scorpius’ cheeks no matter how rapidly he blinked them away. His nose dripped, but his anguish was too great to let that stop him from the task at hand. In his quest to bake cookies, it was as if he’d been put under the Imperius as he went through the motions without fully processing them.

Several days ago, he’d lost his mother. He refused to lose baking too, and that thought alone drove him through each step.

Much of the joy of baking had come from his mother, however, and though the gaping hole in his heart was always present, it stung particularly strongly while he was in the kitchen. It didn’t help that his father was nowhere to be seen. He’d seen Draco once in the aftermath of Astoria’s death. Just once. There was no one to help him stir the cake batter and try to laugh despite what had happened.

Still, Scorpius kept working. He baked a cake, then cookies, then a pie. He even made a souffle that turned out to be the most inedible thing he’d ever made. The finished products took up the entire kitchen table and filled the room with familiar scents that took him back to various moments in time. Small grins would break free on his lips only to quell when he remembered those moments were in the past. He’d never experience anything like them again.

He kept going until they ran out of flour, a discovery that made him collapse in a heap on the kitchen floor with tears streaming down his face.

* * *

Scorpius had gotten a little better at pretending things were okay by the time he went back to Hogwarts. That didn’t stop Albus from keeping a watchful eye on him, and his best friend quickly spotted the changes that Astoria’s death had brought about.

They made it a week into the term before Albus took it upon himself to cut off a slice of treacle tart and set the plate in front of Scorpius, whose response was to scowl and push the plate away.

“Scor,” Albus said gently, “sweets are your favourite, and you haven’t eaten them even once since we got back to Hogwarts.”

Scorpius shrugged and kept his eyes on his plate as he took another bite of green beans.

“Maybe my tastes are changing. Besides, sweets are bad for you anyway. It’s not like I’m doing anything unhealthy.”

It was quiet for a moment, and Scorpius thought he had won. When he looked at Albus, though, the other boy was watching him with a frown.

“I know what you’re doing,” Albus said slowly, “and I don’t like it.”

“I’m fine,” Scorpius shot back.

His arms wrapped around his middle without him realizing they were doing it.

“Sweets, especially baking them, are your favourite things,” Albus whispered, leaning in close to keep the other students from hearing him. “I know a lot has happened, but that’s all the more reason to eat them, right? When everything else sucks, you should enjoy the things you like.”

Scorpius fiddled with his fork, unable to take another bite of his dinner.

“I went on a baking rampage after she died.” His mouth barely moved with the words, but somehow, Albus heard them. “I baked until we ran out of flour, and no one ate any of it. It was terrible, Albus. I just baked and cried for two days. Then I dumped it all in the rubbish.”

Albus reached for Scorpius’ hand and held it on top of the table.

“You’re allowed to cry. And bake. That’s not bad.”

Scorpius shook his head, blinking away tears. They were still at the Slytherin table, and he was determined not to put on a show that the other students could mock him for later.

“It was scary. I’ve never baked like that in my life. I’ve never done anything like that. It was like I couldn’t stop baking, even if I tried. I don’t want to do it again. Ever.”

He shuddered at the power of his own words. Albus’ grip on his hand tightened.

“You’re grieving. Of course you didn’t feel your best, but it wasn’t the baking doing that, Scorpius.”

Scorpius shrugged as if Albus might be right. He tugged his hand out of Albus’ grip and hid it in his lap instead. Albus watched him for a few seconds before making his next offer.

“I could bake with you.”

Scorpius froze, eyes wide.

“I know baking was what you did with your mum,” Albus rushed to add, “and it’s not like I can replace her. I don’t have the first clue about baking, but I could help. Maybe. At least you wouldn’t be in the kitchen alone and crying.”

When Scorpius only continued to stare at him, Albus kept talking.

“We could at least give it a shot?”

Scorpius swallowed and gave a decisive nod of his head.

“Okay,” he said, a small smile appearing on his lips for the first time. “We can at least give it a try.”

* * *

The Hogwarts house elves handed over control of one of their ovens with an ease Scorpius hadn’t expected. They even gave the boys human-sized aprons, insisting that they not dirty the school robes they were still wearing. Scorpius wondered how many students had found their way down to the kitchens for reasons that weren’t just to nick food, and he realized that he had missed out on a couple years’ worth of opportunities.

It was the first time Scorpius was able to distance himself from the loss of his mother. He watched as Albus tried to tie his apron but couldn’t reach around in order to make the knot. Scorpius took pity on him and tied it for him, growing distracted by how close they were.

Once it was on, Scorpius took a step back, looking Albus up and down.

“The apron suits you,” he said with an appreciative nod of his head.

Albus’ cheeks turned a light pink, and he squirmed as he reached for one of the bowls the house elves had provided them with. Never mind that he had nothing to do with it besides fiddle with it in his hands.

“What should we do first?” he asked Scorpius.

The nervousness in his eyes made Scorpius smile. It was exciting to be showing someone how to bake for the first time. He’d never done that before. This kind of teaching was funner than explaining to Albus for a fifth time why Animagi could only turn into one animal each.

He handed Albus a measuring cup to go with his bowl and instructed him on what ingredients to add. It didn’t take long for Scorpius to be doubled over in laughter as Albus stared at his raw egg coated hand in horror. Pushing away his laughter, Scorpius showed him how to correctly crack an egg and how to remove the pieces of shell that had already made their way into the batter.

As their hands touched in the process, Scorpius couldn’t help but think of the countless times he’d watched his mother and father in similar scenarios in the kitchen of Malfoy Manor. It was the first time a memory of his mother hadn’t hurt to the point of being overwhelming. Instead, a small smile worked its way onto his lips. He’d always enjoyed watching his parents together like that; he hadn’t been prepared for how nice it would feel to be in a similar position with someone else.

“Scorpius?”

Scorpius blinked, his eyes focusing on a smirking Albus.

“Now what?” Albus asked, seeing that he’d gotten Scorpius’ attention. 

He motioned at the bowl that was currently home to their batter. Scorpius had been zoned out long enough for Albus to mix the ingredients together. He cleared his throat as he regained focus.

“Now we grease the pan,” he said, reaching for the needed supplies.

Once the cake was in the oven, the two boys collapsed at the end of one of the tables to admire their work through the tiny oven door. Albus seemed proud of the cake, but Scorpius’ own attention kept drifting to the boy beside him.

He’d only just remembered his insistence to his mother that whoever he married would be good at baking. He hadn’t wanted someone bumbling around the kitchen like his father, no matter how amusing his attempts at helping could be. As he looked at Albus and remembered his disastrous first attempt at cracking an egg, he thought he finally understood what his mother had meant when she’d cautioned him against making such strong declarations.

* * *

_Ten Years Later_

Scorpius giggled as Albus looked down at his batter spotted apron and tried to figure out how the batter had gotten there from the bowl. Grabbing a rag from the counter, Scorpius swiped at the batter, not that it did any good. The only positive from the action was the smile Albus gave him. When Albus wrapped his arms around his middle, Scorpius came willingly, not minding that the batter was being smeared across his own apron.

“Do you remember the first time we baked together?” Scorpius asked.

Albus’ smile grew softer as his eyes focused on something far away.

“Of course I remember.”

His fingers traced shapes on Scorpius’ waist, and it was all Scorpius could manage not to snuggle his face in the nape of Albus’ neck and forget about the half-finished cake behind them.

“That was when I realized I was falling for you,” Scorpius said.

The words made his stomach flutter even after so long, and he dropped a quick kiss to Albus’ cheek. His fingers found their way to Albus’ collar, fiddling with it.

“Really?” Albus asked, brow scrunching in adorable confusion. “But I was a terrible baker back then. I couldn’t even crack an egg!”

Scorpius giggled and tugged him closer.

“It was adorable,” he said.

Albus shook his head with a sigh.

“Well, I’m at least a better baker now, aren’t I?”

Scorpius pulled away and pretended to consider it, tilting his head to the left and then the right.

“You can crack an egg,” was his chosen answer.

Albus let out a snort of protest and reached for Scorpius’ waist again, but Scorpius was faster, dodging around the kitchen table before he was caught. The chase continued for a few seconds, with several bowls and ingredients nearly being upended. In the end, Scorpius let himself get caught—not that Albus would admit as much—and pressed his back into Albus’ chest.

“I can separate an egg,” Albus whispered in his ear, sending shivers down his spine. “That’s much more impressive than just cracking one.”

Scorpius did his best to pretend he was unaffected as he motioned towards their bowl of batter perched on the counter.

“Are you going to prove that you can put a cake in the oven?” he asked in as innocent of a voice he could manage.

It was hard to quell his smirk as Albus huffed and let go of him. He poured the batter into a cake pan and placed it in the oven, tossing pointed looks Scorpius’ way every three seconds. 

Memories of his childhood spent in the kitchen with Astoria and Draco came back to Scorpius as he watched. Albus was far from a perfect baker. For all his talk about knowing how to separate an egg, that was one skill he’d managed to master while others continued to elude him.

Still, Scorpius wouldn’t have traded his baking partner for anything.


End file.
